That Man
by Phishouttawatta
Summary: He's the sovereign lord of the nation, he's the hippest cat in creation, and he's the man she wanted to strangle. Drabble-plus story. KuzcoxYikes(OC)
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Emperor's New Groove or any of its characters; those belong to Disney. However, all original characters of my own design are slaves to my imagination and belong to me :) I do not make profit from this fanfiction.**

He pointed his finger at me and proclaimed, "Yikes."

The force of the insult hit me so hard I felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs. Before I could truly register what he said or reply, he had moved on, putting himself in the eye line of the woman to my left who had her head bowed bracing for impact after listening to the slew of barbs the emperor threw as he made his way down the line of women.

"And let me guess, you have a _great_ personality, " he condescended. Not even giving the last woman even the most perfunctory glance, he turned to the official and leaned towards him menacingly.

"Is this really the best you could do?" he asked, annoyed. By this time I had recovered, and unlike the women around me, instead of self-consciously tugging at my insulted hair or bowing my head to hide my burning humiliation, my rage was incinerated. I started forward with my fist raised, consequences be damned. I'd show him a thing or two, I'd teach him some manners. Before my I could land a well-deserved blow, an elegant hand grasped my elbow, absorbing the brunt of my forceful movement. The mate of the first hand came to pull me backwards, away from _his royal highness_.

I turned enraged eyes on the woman who held me back who looked so eerily like myself, minus a few details. "Stop! You'll get yourself killed," she hissed in my ear. I felt her arm envelope my shoulders, attempting comfort, but I was far from reposed. But, what she said was true, and I forced myself to swallow bitter anger.

He dismissed us. He dismissed us and the official without so much as a word, leaving us to be ushered from the hall into the rooms where had previously been prepared as brides. The dichotomy of the emotions I had left and returned with was astounding. Before I had been presented, I had been fitted in a wedding dress of amazing finery and my hair styled in the latest fashion in a flurry. I had stood quaking with the other women. Quite a few had continued to pluck and pull at the clothes in which they had been outfitted, either out of nervousness or discomfort.

It had been nearly silent in the spacious yet intimately lit room save for the rustling of luxurious cloth and the worried scurrying of the palace official.

'Gees,' I had thought with some pity. 'He looks more nervous than we do.'

His yelp when the emperor kicked open the doors with a resounding boom confirmed my suspicions. Truth be told, I had jumped at his sudden entrance. We all stood a little straighter as I heard him instruct in a gratified tone, "Okay, trot out the ladies."

Seemed like he didn't want to waste any time. Perfect. This was nerve-wracking enough; I didn't want to draw it out. He stood in front of the woman to the far right. I expected a few moments of silence, but in a blink of an eye, I heard his voice ring out with a blase timbre, "Hate your hair." I gasped quietly.

No way. I couldn't believe it, but it continued.

"Not likely," was bestowed to the next girl. I stared straight ahead, not trusting myself to look down the line at him as he laid out another biting remark. "Yikes," was said for the first time, and shortly after to the woman next to me. He was in my line of sight for an only an instant, just enough time for me to focus on his eyes that bore into mine as he smugly delivered my dismissal.

The room I came back to now found me not jittery-and yes even hopeful-as I had left, but absolutely incensed as my hands flew to my ears where expensive gold had been bestowed. I meant to throw them as hard as I could and let loose my pent up anger that I had not been allowed to unload on its source, but remembered that though they remained tarnished to me as gifts from the emperor, they were valuable, as was the gown I was wearing, so I placed them on my sling purse. I refused assistance in removing the dress and don the clothes in which I had arrived.

I had scarcely finished covering myself when through the door filed in the dual-colored royal guards, all bearing bags. They presented them to each of us as one took to a speech, "On behalf of his majesty, he sends you back to where you came from with favors, including a stuffed Emperor Kuzco doll, a priceless gift. You will find your exit to your left once you have finished." I took my gift bag with a slack jaw, my mouth open like a fish. I put my hand inside and grasped the first thing I felt. I pulled the plush doll out of the paper bag and stared down on it. My grip tightened, hoping to pop the head off of the thing.

And yet, well made, it stayed intact, a replica of the man himself: Kuzco. He's the sovereign lord of the nation, the hippest cat in creation, the alpha, the omega, a to z. And in that moment, he's the one I wanted to strangle.

XXXX

 **AAAH! hello lovelies! This idea has always kinda knocked around my head when I watch this movie...what about those women? Especially THAT ONE, the one that was ready to let him HAVE IT! well, let's find out :D**

 **And I'm gonna try it keep it light and simple. I know I have a lot of in-progress stories, but I'm trying my hand at a drabble-plus sort of story. Hopefully you guys enjoy it, cause I think it's gonna be fun :) Also, I think Kuzco is gonna be a blast to write.**

 **Reads and reviews are always greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

Coincidentally, it seemed I was not the only one who wanted Kuzco out of the picture. Not but a few days later, after my long journey home to be met with whispers and sidelong glances, news came to my village of the emperor's demise. Not a bad consolation prize to receive alongside my new label: the rejected bride of the emperor. Oh yeah. It stung, and much to my chagrin, it didn't effect just me.

I came from a long line of ship builders, and my family owned a very successful ship yard. But with the failing health of my father and the nagging absence of my mother following her death, my younger brother, Rimachi, and I had to take over the business. Honestly, co-owner of a popular ship yard was not a bad place to be sitting as a sixteen year old woman. It provided our family with substantial income and me with a reasonable status of my own.

If only it had stayed that way.

Refused before I even made it to the alter. A disgrace like that didn't bode well for my status or my family's business. Killa, the once firey blossom of the seaside village now the least desired woman in the province. It was a good thing Kuzco was dead, because I could have killed him twice over by now. Luckily we were able to make a moderate income thanks to loyal customers and their memory of our product.

Then the news came: the emperor was alive and well, apparently something about being turned into a llama and almost murdered by his adviser slash resident mad scientist and her lackey. What a bunch of hooey.

The day the news arrived, I closed the shop and threw myself onto my bed, burrowing my face into my pillow.

"Killa!" I heard my brother call from our entryway. I groaned into my pillow in the form of a reply. "Killa?" I heard at my doorway.

"Hm?" I grunted.

"Did you close the shop?" I nodded, keeping my face buried in the cushioning down. "How are we supposed do any business today? What if someone comes with an order?"

I turned my head and eyed him irritably. "Well, Rimy, _you_ could go man the shop." He narrowed his eyes at me.

"It's not my turn today. I have other errands to run." I let my gaze drift out of focus as I answered him with a bored tone.

"I don't know what you expect to get done today. Everyone is closing up shop except for restaurants." He quirked a brow at me.

"For what?" I knew he was teasing me now, and I sent him a dirty look before flopping my face back into my pillow. I didn't have to see his faced to know he was acting through a mock revelation.

"Ooooh, you mean because the _emperor_ was found _alive_." I let out a huff as I heard him shift towards the door. He knew I was about to throw something.

"Why," he began, sounding saccharine and falsely enthusiastic. "We should go out and revel in our nation's good fortune with our fellow neighbors," he continued. Meanwhile, my hand pressed across any reachable area of my bed and nightstand, hoping to discover a decent projectile. A comb was the first weapon wielded; easily deflected. With two hands, I flung a pillow and a wayward coin, my lips pulled into a competitive smile as he ducked under one and sidestepped the other.

"Oh, what a _joyous_ day!" he exclaimed. The next object hit him square in the face, and I celebrated my perfect aim with a smirk until I realized what I had thrown, now nestled in his palm.

"Rimachi-" I started, horrified at what he held in his hand. He looked down to examine it.

"Oh," was all he could manage to utter until he fell into peels of laughter, first normal, humorous chortling, until I insisted, "It's not funny," which insighted howling laughter. I felt myself also crack a smile as I crossed my arms. I regarded him as he was reduced to tears. He attempted to regain control of himself, closing his mouth and trying to breaking himself of the laughing hiccups formed. His smile was twisted as he fought against it.

I gave him what I hoped was a stern look. "Are you quite finished?" He took a deep breath and nodded, obviously not trusting himself to open his mouth. "Thank you," I said sincerely, giving him a fond smile. He was always good about cheering me up. His hand extended, intent on returning Kuzco to his rightful owner.

"I don't want that thing," I sneered as I eyed it distastefully. My brother looked down at it again and shrugged. His long legs carried him out of my room as he remarked, "Bet the dog will love it."


	3. Chapter 3

**2 years later**

I felt a dull yank at the base of my skull, strong enough to make me lose my balance and reel backwards. I caught onto the door jam and yelped, "Hey!" I raised my hand toward the source of my discomfort. My brother towered over me, a smirk playing on his face.

"Can I help you?" I inquired none-to-friendly, pulling against his hold.

"I need you to man the stall at the market today," he said before he let go. I scoffed rudely, reminding him that I had orders and ship plans to go over. "Besides, they don't want to buy from me, they want to buy from you."

He shoved the logs stuffed with notes and order forms into my arms. "Not with that attitude. Look, I have some business that came up. The stall is set up already and everything. You can always work on that stuff there."

And then there I was, in our booth trying hard to ignore the cacophony of noise from the market square so I could concentrate on the work that would actually be making us some money. Like I told my brother, having a stall at the market was superfluous as it was and having me man it was silly. Though the years that had gone by had softened the blow from the Emperor on the business, I still wasn't the greatest front person for attracting new or repeat customers. They loved my work, but I was still someone people didn't want to be seen speaking with.

I growled in annoyance as the normal crowd murmur had climbed to just short of a dull roar. Taking a moment to scan the sea of people, I took note that there were way more people at this weekly market than usual, except once a year when...the emperor...comes... _oh my god!_

"Rimachi, you rat!" He had obviously been lying to me about this "business" he had that came up. What kind of brother tortured his sister like this? Now from the ocean of tunics I recognized a few feminine shrieks of excitement.

Ugh, this could not be happening. Was there a way to close our stand at incredible, illogical speed?

I would just have to try.

I slammed my book shut, not taking care to notice the loose leaves of paper. A few found their way out of the confines of the heavy bindings, swirling to the ground in front of our stall. I looked toward where the majority of people still lingered, but the crowd had thinned slightly, and I caught a glimpse of his crimson tunic coming closer as he broke through the outer ring of people. I looked from my papers-too important to leave behind-to the bane of my existence, judging my timing.

Decision made in one tense instant, I dug my sandals into the packed earth and ducked under the table, sliding out into walkway and skidding as I stooped toward the paper.

A strong onshore gust tore its way through the square, kicking up loose dirt and sand, my hair, and my papers. "Shit." Thankfully, my quick reflexes had pinned one paper, keeping it shivering in my grasp as the wind continued the blow softly. The other however, was being extended to me by a bronze hand.

I froze and my eyes travelled slowly upward until they met the obsidian depths of the man before me, while I silently prayed that what I thought was happening wasn't actually happening. I took in his faces I stared. Sloping forehead leading to dark, arched brows. Between his aristocratic cheekbones and his charcoal eyes, an elegantly hooked nose sat, as if pointing downwards to the full, cinnamon lips that uttered the same phrase in front of me then as they uttered now, "Yikes."


	4. Chapter 4

"I think this place gets busier every year," my large companion commented off handedly eyeing the villagers swarming stands for goods and the next best deal.

I lifted a brow as I regarded the crowd as it surged toward Pacha and myself. "Looks like my reputation precedes me."

"You know, I would tell you to stop being arrogant, but I think you may be right." The crowd advanced, reaching hands out for me to shake or raising their voices to extend welcome.

"Well, this may take a bit longer than usual," I muttered, somewhat put out. Truly, I liked that people liked post-llama me, but it made it a little harder, well, a lot harder to move among my subjects. But I knew they would calm down after the initial frenzy, which this crowd seemed to be doing, while promising me home-cooked meals and beautiful daughters for me to meet.

As they thinned slightly, that's when I caught a glimpse of her. She was bent over a well-worn ledger, her fingers supporting her head at her temple. I found my view obstructed again and raised myself onto my toes. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, but knew I could worm my way over there. The next time I saw her, she was scurrying about her stall, making to close at what could be described as illogical speed. I huffed out a cropped laugh, watching her attempted to close all of her papers into one book only to have them fly away. The look of annoyance of her face was _adorable_. I had to go talk to her.

She was stooping to pick up her papers as I walked towards her and as luck would have it, a gust of wind kicked up. I was close enough to watch her hair fly with the unseen energy, sparkling chestnut in the midday sunlight. A slap across my skin stung as one of her papers connected with my shin. I smiled. 'Perfect.'

I extended the paper out to her, and she finally took notice of me. She stilled like a started deer, gaze fixated on the document in my hand. Her doe-like eyes rose to meet mine. I watched her peruse my face, and I took the opportunity to take hers in as well. A square face, perfectly symmetrical and smooth. Her mouth was the color of Incan lilies, her bottom lip fuller than the top, pouting naturally. 'Alright, Cuzco. Moment of truth.'

"Yikes," I started. What I had expected as a reaction was quite different than what I received. Instead of a confused, but breathy, "What?" or a grin, maybe even a giggle in agreement, the woman in front of me started and her eyes found mine again. I took them in, framed by sooty, long lashes and her pupils seemed impossibly tiny, as if she were incensed. I would have liked the blush that reached up to her ears, but it was ruined by the look of loathing she shot me as she snatched the paper out of my hand before I could react.

"Excuse me?" she hissed, voice wavering in rage.

"Uh, yikes. The wind" I started dumbly, gesturing with by twirling a finger in the air, "is really bad today." She seemed to relax, her shoulders sagging as she sighed. Her eyes, fell from my face, as if she were purposely avoiding my gaze, or at least that's what I suspected when she ignored the hand I hand outstretched to help her rise. She ran a hand along her bedraggled hair and dusted herself off.

"I'm-"

"I know who you are," she snapped, cutting me off rudely. I raised my eyebrows imploringly, trying to understand what her beef was.

My eyebrows drew together as she began to turn from me, dismissing me in another poor show of manners. "Did I do something wrong?" I asked, wanting to demand an answer. She stopped, sighed again, and turned, eyeing me critically.

"Let me ask you this: do you know who _I_ am?" The question caught me off-guard. It was hard to know, I had met so many people in the years following my change. I looked her over again with my hand on my mouth, staring hard, hoping for a spark of recognition, but I would have remembered someone so lovely, so lively if I had ever met them before.

She blinked slowly. "I thought so. Good day, your highness." I jogged after her.

I made a request as I caught up to her side. "How about you help me remember then?" She sent a humorless smile in my direction, looked as if she could laugh and cry.

"Not today your highness. I have work to do." She looked up at me and this time I could see the glassiness of her eyes. She looked _humiliated_. Her voice cracked as she continued, since I was too struck at the look on her face to bring myself to reply. "Please."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Yeah, sure. Later then." I stopped walking and let her continue then. Her eyes looked at me, hard and cold, and she walked away, blending with the crowd until I couldn't discern which was she actually went. I stared after her until Pacha's deep voice drew me from my thoughts.

"Who was that?" he asked. I shook my head, "I can't remember." But I wanted to. I strode purposefully to the stall next to hers and inquired to who she was and where I could find her.

I knew I probably looked smug by the expectant tone in Pacha's voice, "So, what's the plan?" I turned to him, and my smile matched his.

"Pacha, we should get a boat."

 **Okay! I hope you guys liked it! I tried to update quickly because I, for one, think that waiting for a chapter that's another perspective on the same event is kind of a gip. I've been able to plan out a bit more, so next one should come rather soon. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!**

 **Take care!**


	5. Chapter 5

The door closed behind me with the clatter of old wood. I gazed around the room as Pacha lumbered slowly toward the thick oak desk at the far end of the room. I raised my eyebrows, impressed. My eyes took in the expensive woods and carpets, obviously old, but tasteful. Volumes of thick texts filled the shelves that lines the walls, spines faded by the sunlight that washed through the large windows every day, year after year.

"Your highness," a man's voice greeted from across the room, the textures within making it sound warm and resonant. He entered the room with an open posture and face. 'Whoa,' I thought. If Pacha was a tree, this man was a mountain. I casually strolled toward the desk myself, not answering him, still leisurely acquainting myself with the shop the lady I wanted to know the most about called her place of employment. As I didn't grace him with a reply, his dark eyes slid to Pacha as he leaned close, peering curiously at a model ship.

"How may I help you? I would be happy to assist you in your design and order of your ships?"

I flicked an invisible speck of dirt from between my thumb and forefinger. "And you think I need assistance with such things? That I don't know how to place an order for ships?" I didn't watch his face change, purposely keeping my face trained in an expression of aloofness. He must have reeled backwards because I heard Pacha snort in my direction.

"Don't pay attention to him. He's just messing with you." I turned jilted eyes on my broad companion and spoke with false injury.

"You _wound_ and betray me, Pacha, by suggesting that I have such a poor sense of humor." Pacha rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the model, a good-natured smile on his face.

"Emperor Kuzco?" I smiled and finally met the eyes of the shipbuilder who was looking at me imploringly and was good enough to not gape at the banter between my advisor and myself.

"That girl that tended the stall at the marketplace-" I started. His face reflected surprise. "My sister?" And then my face reflected his?

"Your sister?" Now that he said it, they did have a resemblance. Same square face and upturned eyes. I looked over to Pacha who gave us his attention now. He gave me a look that I think meant something, but I can't read minds, so I continued with my pursuit. "Let's cut to the chase. I aim to take her as my wife."

"Again?"

My eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"Your highness, you called for her to be a bride two years ago. You sent her home." It's like I got been struck over the head with Chicha's frying pan. Pacha sidled up beside me and muttered, "Well, that explains why she was staring daggers at you."

Yes, it certainly did. If I could see the me from two years ago, I would probably send death glares my way, too. Seeing as I was momentarily at a loss for words, Pacha took up the slack. "So," he prompted.

"Rimachi."

"Rimachi, you would be opposed to the marriage?" he asked, trying to get a read on the man that was previously so open, but now with his arms crossed and jaw clenched tight, looking rather serious and protective. The tall man squinted as he pondered, bringing a hand to rub along his stubble and lips.

"Not necessarily. I need to hear more from him though," he said, nodding his head at me. Before I could answer, he continued, eyes rivaling his sister's in intensity. "Last time, the arrangements were made through my father, not me. I'm the man of this family now. And I think it means something that you are being a man, coming in front of me yourself instead of sending someone in your stead. I suspect things will be different this time."

"Ah ha," I coughed. "Yes, well. I, as a person, am very different this time. Why don't you tell me what you expect to be different so that this arrangement may continue." I attempted to mirror his seriousness, and he seemed to relax.

"Last time, you humiliated her. You insulted her, not only with words, but by lining her up with five, six other women. This time, she will be your only consideration." I gave a firm nod.

"Done. She is the only one to have ever caught my attention. She is the only one I am considering."

He held up two fingers, "Second: you will be sure to treat her well, no unkind words or actions toward her or we will forfeit this marriage."

"She will be my empress and treated as such." That seemed to satisfy him because he immediately moved on to, "Her dowry-"

"Will not be necessary. Give it to her, if you want, so she can spend the money as she pleases. I have plenty to spare." I could feel Pacha rolling his eyes to my left at my conspicuous boast. 'Superfluous, probably, but I want to this guy to know that I intend to take good care of...'

My brain took pause when it occurred to me that I didn't even know her name yet. Stupid.

"What is her name?" I asked, starting to feel rather psyched about how well this was going.

"Killa." I immediately repeated the name, tasting it on my lips for the first time and smiled. Rimachi's gave me a knowing look and I tried not to let his suggestive smile sour my mood. Yeah I'm infatuated, so what?

Pacha, always a groove-killer, clarified once more, and I must say I didn't much care for the skeptical edge that his tone took. "You're really okay with your sister marrying him, even after the first go around?"

Rimachi nodded. "I think this would be good for her. She is smart, driven. They would be a good match. But, it doesn't matter what I think." Like a bucket of cold water, I snapped awake from my warm fuzzies and fixed him with a look I usually used to get my way.

"Come again?"

He shrugged, his arms looking like swinging boughs of trees. "Well I can be all for the match all I want, but I'm not going to force my sister to do something she doesn't want to do."

"You don't sound very committed to the arrangement. Sort of indifferent." I said with my eyes slightly narrowed. Not cool to get my hopes up, man. Not cool.

He fixed me with a cool gaze. "I am committed to my family, and that includes Killa and her happiness," but he let out a deep breath as he continued talking. "Rest assured I will discuss it at length with her. Like I said, I think this will be good for her, for them."

He walked from behind the desk toward the door, opening it and gesturing us outside.

"She will be home soon and it'd be best if you weren't here. Come back tomorrow. I'll have to talked to her by then and then you can make the proposal to her." As I stepped out of the ship-builder's shop and into the busy coastal street, I felt nervous for the first time in a long time.

 **Hey there, I know that seemed pretty formal, but in Incan society, marriages were often arranged and conducted in a very business-like manner. Don't worry, though, there will be romance to come, I promise...or will there?**


	6. Chapter 6

"Rimachi-" He dodged a book.

"-you-" he carefully stayed opposite of me behind the desk. "-dirty, rotten scumbag!"

"Hey, at least hear me out, Killa," my brother pleaded. I wanted him to cower more from my wrath, be scared of me because he was making me madder just calmly trying to get me to talk. I shot him an accusing look and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"You did this on purpose!" I accused. "How could you?"

I stared at him, feeling small and powerless. Betrayal stung.

"No, I didn't do anything on purpose. I didn't even remember he would be in the village, I swear!" My tall brother put a hand over his heart in a show of sincerity.

"Bullshit!" I exploded, going to chase him around the corner of the desk, leaning over the top of the smooth surface to gain purchase and ground on the long-legged backstabber. As we ran from the shopfront into the house, I continued to shout as I followed him. "And then you went and said yes to him!" I caught up to him, but he used his knuckle-dragger arms to keep me firmly away from his person. I swiped at his hand and wrist, trying to wrench myself from his grip, but he had my skull firmly palmed. Damn his giant limbs.

"No," he corrected in his annoyingly composed voice. "I told him I approved. Only you can say yes." By using both hands I finally heaved his heavy hand off of me and back into his own personal space. "Yeah, as if that would ever happen," I scoffed, pushing my now mushed and messy bangs back into place. I plopped myself down in our sitting room with my arms crossed.

"You might want to give it more thought than that," Rimachi advised. My hackles immediately raised, and I groused at him. "Why should I? He turned me down once already."

My brother stared hard at me. "Are you really okay with just marrying some random guy?"

I glared at him. "Oh yeah, I will just choose from my line of my many potential suitors." I was being facetious and a bit of a brat, but he knew my predicament.

"You can't stay unmarried forever, Killa. Our family name may have some sway in the village, but when it comes down to it, I can't stop the village leader from doing what's best for the continuing community." I snorted. What's best for the community. Translation: an arranged marriage. He continued, "You're getting close to that age, and there's no one suitable that I would see you matched with, no one of similar status unless you want to be a second or third wife to an old fart."

I pulled a face, giving him his answer.

"What's more, though," man he liked to listen to himself talk. Bet him and the Emperor would get along just fine. "You are a smart, driven young woman. I don't see you staying happy being someone's housewife." He had a point there. I loved being involved with the business and loved challenging myself. Rimachi came to sit next to me, probably seeing a bit of my resolve to stay as far away from Kuzco fall away.

"Think about it, Killa. You would be _the empress._ Second in command to the whole country. Think of all the good you could do." Now that was definitely appealing. "And if he really is heinous, you can just give him a taste of his own medicine."

Now that wasn't something I really considered. I mean, revenge _is_ a plate best served cold. That sounded better than anything else my brother way saying. It was one thing to be sent back as a reject bride, but a-whole-nother thing to reject the emperor. I would get my life back. If worst comes to worse, I would love nothing more than to watch his face fall as he realizes that his wife was leaving him. I would have to be careful, though. I would have to be childless for something like that to be acceptable.

'Nope, nope, nope!" Don't even want to think about consummating my marriage to the emperor. Either way, my brother was right. Best case scenario: the emperor was actually a semi-decent human being, I do my duty as a wife, I'm taken care of for life in a station far beyond my current one, and we have a decent marriage. I can't assume our pairing will be perfect—they hardly ever are—so why have unrealistic expectations? Might as well try it, that was the whole point of trial marriage.

"Empress Killa does have a nice ring to it," I mused.

Rimachi tackled me, fondly grazing his knuckles across my scalp. I yelped in protest, trying to use what little strength I had to push him away.

"You better make sure you don't forget us little people when you're at the top," he said, smothering my head into his chest.

Ugh.

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

I was in the ship yard when he approached me, directing our foreman and laborers on the design. I was ready for him this time, so I didn't panic. I did freeze momentarily as my brain registered the reality of what what happening. The emperor was in my village, he was in front of me, and he was coming to ask me the most important question—to date—of my life.

I respectfully dismissed my workers and turned to face him, hugging my clipboard with details to my chest. I took this moment before he reached me to size him up. He really was handsome, not to mention young and confident. If I had to be married to someone, it could be worse; at least he was good looking—shallow I know, but I didn't have much to count on in way of personality.

I finished my initial assessment and caught him looking, as if he was really taking me in for the first time as well as he approached me. He at least had the decency to look serious about all of this, not as flippant as he had two years ago. Maybe he had actually grown up a bit.

He finally stopped in front of me, a few inches taller than me, or maybe that was the way he held, so self assure. The emperor stood close, so close I felt like I could feel the heat emanating from his body. He spoke low so only I could hear him as if he was trying to give us privacy, and it made me blush.

"Killa." My heart jumped into my throat the first time I heard him say my name, watched his lips form it while his tongue bounce off the back of his teeth. Why did it feel like our first real conversation was _intimate_ , as if we were the only people in the room? I minutely shook my head, trying not to get distracted by his proximity and his dark eyes boring into mine.

"Your majesty," I replied. His expression was light as he corrected me, "Kuzco."

I wet my lips and watched his eyes dart to the movement. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was distracted. "Kuzco," I said, strengthening my voice. It sounded odd, so surreal. I never expected I would be exchanging words again—if you could call our first meeting an exchange—let alone call him by his first name, in a discussion about our marriage no less.

Well, that's not true, I thought about that when I was first summoned to the palace to be considered as a bride. I was sixteen at the time with no basis of expectations, and I had been ecstatic to meet him, had daydreamed about our wedding and our family.

Things had changed within the last two years. I stood before him with eyebrow raised, expectant. I worried for a minute that I was probably making myself looked severe and a little less than desirable, but I wanted to make it clear that I would not be taken advantage of.

"Killa, I am here to ask you to accept me as your husband," the emperor said, not beating around the bush. "I propose a two-year trial marriage." I regarded him and decided to make sure I understood every detail of what he considered a trial marriage.

"If we decide we work within the two years, we finalize the relationship, make it official," I clarified. He held my gaze and nodded.

I continued, "And if we don't work?"

His answer was confident, reminiscent of the man before me. "We dissolve the relationship."

I hesitated and bit my lip, but didn't feel like prolonging this anymore than I needed to. I had been anxious about this meeting all night, wanting and expecting him to have answers, and he had them. I expected him to be respectful and he was. The only thing holding me back were my own reservations about my past history with the emperor and what had followed me around after the fact. I need to let those things go. I was ready. My eyes found his own charcoal depths.

"I accept."

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

I was actually nervous. _Me!_ Unbelievable.

I walked into the store front sans Pacha and shook hands with the ginormous brother, who assured me that he had spoken to Killa about the marriage and that she was open to it. I was definitely satisfied by this news.

'Good, at least there would be no surprises.' He directed me out the side door that lead to the shipyard. I'm glad he didn't come with me. I wanted this to be about me and her, not pressure from her family or anyone else.

I saw her in her element before she even noticed I was there. Killa was working intensely, giving direction to gentlemen that I could only guess worked for her and her brother. She looked comfortable atop her figurative throne, overseeing her workers, her kingdom. She would make one helluva empress.

I finally caught her eye, and she froze. When her eyes caught mine I moved to her, watched her dismiss her staff with a polite word. Her honey colored eyes moved along my form, taking in my face obviously deep in thought, and I allowed myself to really take a look at her in turn, not just as a woman, but imagining her as what she possibly could be be: my wife. And I liked what I saw. Her gaze wasn't just critical, but intelligent and thoughtful.

We exchanged quick words. She had obvious expectations, and I wanted more than anything to meet them. I wasn't sure if I was satisfied or disappointed that she treated it like a business exchange, even though it was commonplace for it to be done so, but I definitely appreciated the blush on her cheeks the entire time. Maybe this wasn't such as an insignificant thing for her as she made it out to be.

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

I made my way to the front door, a jump in my step and a smile stretching across my lips. As my palm found the handle of the door, I caught movement to my side. A shaggy dog, playing with what looked to be a stuffed animal. Upon closer inspection, it was one I recognized. I felt the color drain from my face as I watched his canines rip off my arm.

I swallowed hard, uncomfortable for not the first time that day, and hoping that it wasn't a sign of our near future.


	7. Chapter 7

I stared at the palanquin.

I had risen with the sun on my day of travel to the capital. Even though the town was still in the shadow of the towering mountains, the morning air seemed warm and thick as I forced myself to close my gaping mouth.

"You look like a fish," Rimachi had muttered in my ear.

I physically shook my head to clear the dust in my brain and spoke low enough for my brother to hear. "I am not being carried down the highway." He quirked an eyebrow and turned his body partially toward me from where he had been surveying the entourage waiting patiently in front of our home.

"Why not?"

"I _have_ legs," I said pointedly, hoping the _chasqui_ wouldn't hear me and get offended.

My brother hooked the back of my knee with his foot, causing the joint to collapse beneath me. I glared at him and he gave my lower limbs an appraising look. "Doesn't look like you're used to them yet."

"Oh, shut up," I bit out, still eyeing the palanquin apprehensively. I heard my brother sigh behind me, obviously not pleased with my attitude. I stepped forward and handed over my belongings over to be loaded up in the llama cart.

"If it pleases the Lady, I will help you into your seat?" A slender, rail like girl approached me and gestured to the plump cushion after pulling back the opaque curtain. I hesitated.

"Um, no thank you. I'd rather walk." The girl's smile faltered, only slightly for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "It is a very long way to the capital, and the Emperor has entrusted us to make your journey as comfortable as possible. He doesn't want the travel to be overly taxing."

'Impressive.'

"Do I look like someone who can't handle being taxed?" I blurted out without thinking. I felt a shove on shoulder and met the disapproving glare of my brother.

I scolded myself, knowing I had been rude to someone who didn't deserve it. I was acting no better than Kuzco. I fixed my face, exchanging a skeptical expression for a warm smile.

"I'm sorry. Not much of a morning person," I offered as a lame excuse. The _chasqui_ girl returned my smile, though hers had an amused edge to it.

"I'll keep that in mind for the future." I followed her previous direction and sat gingerly onto the cushion, trying not to make the palanquin sway or fall over. I had never been in one before, who knows how sturdy they were?

Why I even bothered to question the quality of the make of it was beyond me, for it was the Emperor we were talking about. He would only allow the best, so said the well-supported rumors. And I believed them. I remembered the silken cloth whispering against my skin, the weight of the golden earrings, thick and heavy when they hung from my lobes.

And here I was again, sitting on a pile of down, about to be carried on the _Qhapaq_ _Ñ_ _an_ to the capitol. Thankfully, the journey wasn't too long as we laid almost exactly west, but the _chasqui_ who bore me would have to scale one of the steepest routes to get to the main artery that lead to the palace.

"Well here's hoping you'll never have to carry me again," I told her. She merely smiled and made to walk away, but I reached out to touch her arm before she closed the gossamer curtain.

"What was your name?"

She looked down at where I touched her arm and answered simply.

"Q'orianka." _Golden eagle_. With her bronzed skin and sharp, amber eyes she sure looked well suited to her name. And considering she was one of the Emperor's chasqui, trusted with the transport of his future bride, I was sure she also ran swiftly as her namesake suggested.

My brother approached the veiled curtain and for a moment, I felt my throat close.

"Rim," I choked, feeling myself lifted off the ground and held by strong legs. My eyes burned, and I blinked away my tears.

He scoffed lightly, making me feel like the younger sibling for being scared of what was ahead of me.

"I'll be right behind you," he soothed. I could see his roguish smile through the web-like fabric, and felt minutely better.

I gave a resolute nod and focused on empty space ahead of me. My brother gave a signal unseen by me, and I felt a small jostle as the runners found pace. Sooner than I realized, we were moving through my town. The early morning hour meant the village that hugged the mountain's skirts was still a little quiet, with most of the workers and villagers awake at the docks. There was no one to watch me leave, no one to wonder at my success. Would I be accepted? Wed in one day or two? Would I be _desired_? Would I bear children?

Or would I find myself right back where I had started, rejected in my village by the sea, forever watching the sunset alone on volcanic sands?

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **As a note: Chasqui were runners of the empire, running messengers who carried information and sometimes goods. A single chasqui could run 240 km/day. I found no history of them transporting palanquin, but I know someone did, and I imagine Kuzco being one of those people.**

 **Qhapap Ñan meaning "The Beautiful Road" was the Great Incan Road, spanning 6000 km along the Andes.**

 **While I'm trying to put Incan-based culture as a majority into this story, I will allow some anachronisms and historical inaccuracies like the movie did for the sake of the story and humor (I'm not claiming that I'm on the same level as Disney writers, but you get the idea). Let me know what you think!**

 **Hope you are enjoying it!**


	8. Chapter 8

"No, no! _Guys_. _Draping_ , not hanging," I corrected. A servant adjusted the fabric and met my eye for approval. I gave him a satisfied nod and walked away, leaving him to delegate my direction further to all the cloth-drapers. Post llama-face, I had been trying to be less...demanding, less finger-snapping, perform superhuman tasks on a whim, but decorating for my wedding?

Uh-uh.

I am all over this. Fingers in every pie, hovering over every shoulder, and examining every detail.

'My future wife deserves the best, and I am certainly ready to give her just that starting with an insanely beautiful, over the top, spectacular wedding. This may be a business-like arrangement to most and was widely accepted as such, but I don't necessarily see it that way. It may have been a quick decision, but my choice to take her as my wife wasn't frivolous. It was one made from the heart. Somehow, I just knew.

Ugh. I gotta lay off the fondue, that was cheesy.

Oh my gosh, that was a horrible joke. And besides, melty cheese is just too good. Not giving that up.

Speaking of which, we should definitely have as an appetizer at the wedding. Time to find the chef!'

Making a beeline to the kitchen, I almost collided with Chicha, who carried a chattering Yupi who was busy inspecting a crocheted llama.

"Whoa! Kuzco, where's the fire?" she yelped, moving to re-position her youngest who had been jostled in our near collision. I reached for the boy, who bestowed upon me a large smile and raised the llama to me. At my offer, Chicha deposited him in my arms.

"Sorry, Chicha. I'm just trying to get all this wedding stuff ready before Killa gets here."

Chicha muttered a drawn out "Uh," with an eyebrow raised in my direction. I wasn't paying much attention to her reaction however, and continued to the kitchen with her and Pacha's son as companions.

" _Before_ Killa gets here?" she clarified as we finally found our way into the kitchen.

I nodded, "Well, yeah." By now I had found the chef, and started rattling off instructions for exactly how I wanted the fondue. Cheesy, smooth, yummy. "You know how I like it," I told him chummily.

"Anything else?" he asked attentively, ready with pad and paper. I took my hand in my chin, trying to think if there was anything else to add to the already bountiful feast I wanted prepared. Behind Chef, Chicha called out my name to get my attention. "Kuzco."

Unlucky for her, a lightbulb went off in my head. "Yes, actually. You gotta get together with Kronk. He's got this spinach puff recipe that'll knock your socks off, I'm telling you."

"Kuzco," Chicha said louder, but I still had my attention on the chef. I heard her footsteps behind me before I heard her shout my name not a foot away from me. I jumped, and turned to her, somewhat annoyed.

"Gees, Chicha, what? I'm trying to get this all done before tomorrow." The dark haired woman leveled me with a gaze that told me she was about to try to teach me something, and I forced myself to tamp down my impatience.

"Don't you think it would be best to wait for her to do that?"

Confused, I stared at her owlishly while drawing out my answer, "Mmmmm noooooo." She sighed, clearly disappointed with my answer and reached for her son. As he settled in her arms, she hitched him up on her hip.

"Well Kuzco, you have to think of someone other than yourself. This is the beginning of the end of the Kuzco show. She may want to make more than a decision or two when it comes to planning her wedding." I felt my anger rise indignantly at her assumption, and I raised my objection to tell her so, but not after she tacked another point onto the end of her lecture. "And are you really expecting to marry her the day she gets here?"

"I'm not making this about myself. I want to show her that she is taken care of, that she doesn't have to worry about making a ton of decisions when she gets here, and that I'm invested."

"I don't think you need to go through all of that to impress her," she said gently. I frowned, this wasn't so much about being a peacock as it was sending her a message, one of security and happiness, like she probably dreamt of the first time I sent for her. I was trying to show her I was thinking of her, considering her feelings, just in my own way. And she didn't need to think that I maybe was hesitating or reconsidering our marriage by waiting for days to go through with it.

"Well, she's going to be making decisions with you as your empress, right?" Chicha asked still in that grating gentle tone that makes me feel like I'm a child when she's talking to me.

"Of course," I almost snapped, incredulous that she would ask such a ridiculous question.

"Well," she continued, "Don't you think it would make it look like you already dislike or distrust her decisions if you don't let her make any from the very beginning?" Frustrated I huffed.

"Alright, fine. Take it all down. Scrap all of the food plans. Everything." I waved my arms above my head to show I meant all of it, but Chicha still looked disappointed. She leveled me with a tired look and said, "There's no need to get upset, Kuzco."

I turned my back, feeling my thick hair swing behind my neck. "Who's upset? I didn't say anything about being upset. I guess my good intentions will just always be misconstrued," I said in a light, dismissive tone. I heard her sigh behind me and mutter, "Whatever you say Kuzco."

A beat of silence passed as she walked out of the kitchen, and I waited until I didn't hear her shoes scuffing along the floor before I cracked an eye open to look at the chef, who had been frozen silent, pressing himself against the wall to make himself as small as possible. I spoke through the side of my mouth conspiratorially , "Keep the fondue and spinach puffs."

 **AAAHHHHH OHMYGOSH! Thank you so much to my reviewers and favoriters/followers! When I first published this, I had kind of accepted that my story wouldn't get read very often-maybe not all-but wow! The response I have gotten is very encouraging, and lovely, and amazing, and I hope you continue to enjoy it, especially those who have bestowed upon me reviews when they normally don't :)**


	9. Chapter 9

The trip to the capital was awkwardly silent, but really, what more can you expect from people who are hauling you and your belongings up a mountain and through a jungle? Needless to say, I was looking forward to some break in the silence when we reached the capital, but night had already fallen when we were barely on the outskirts. By the time we made the ascent up the impressive steps at the base of the palace, it was deserted.

It was also disappointingly dark with only half a moon in the sky hidden behind storm clouds that rumbled drowsily on the horizon. I was hoping to have a closer look at the palace and the people that basked in the golden light from royalty. Last time I had been here, I was rushed in and around without much time to catch my breath, let alone take in the sights. At the time, I had figured I would be able to familiarize myself with it after I had been chosen. Afterwards, I was so humiliated I all but ran from the place without so much as a glance behind me.

Now the night blanketed the palace in darkness with only a single floodlight to illuminate it. I knew the colors were washed out in comparison to when the sun was shining, so I didn't dwell on the looming structure.

Stepping off the palanquin, I felt my body go into an involuntary stretch. I wanted to inquire about the Emperor immediately, but as the chasqui were showing signs of immense fatigue, I held my questions. There would be time for all of that later, and I was fairly certain most of my answers would come in a short time.

I found myself being led down a myriad of dim hallways until we reached a vibrantly painted magenta door. The door was opened for me by a dual-colored guard—could it be the same one from two years ago? They all look the same—and I shuffled in. I was followed by servants in blue and white who filed in carrying the possessions of mine unloaded from the llama cart.

I looked around the room. Tan adobe walls were cool and solid, giving no glimpse into the outside world. A desk sat in one corner with shelves for books—some were already situated there—while across from that, pushed against another wall was a decent sized bed. It wasn't grand...not what I was expecting from the Emperor, especially not _this_ emperor, king of extravagance.

Q'orianka strode into the room with a towel slung around her neck, a bowl in one hand, and a cup in another. What had it been? Five whole minutes, maybe? And she already looked refreshed and ready for another run. 'Amazing.'

"I have some refreshments for you, miss." She promptly handed me a glass of water and what looked like a bowl of brown chunks.

"For me?" I asked, perplexed. I had assumed they were for her. She just ran farther than I probably had walked my entire life.

"Water and chocolate. While you await whatever you order for dinner. Unless you wish to bathe first."

Oh. "Is Kuz-...Am I not going to meet with the Emperor first?"

"No, you will meet him tomorrow. The hour is already very late."

Well that was disappointing.

"I guess I'll eat. Uh, I have no idea what to choose."

The bronze woman smiled genially to me. "We can make anything you like."

I know she meant to relieve some of the pressure, but it made me feel even more anxious. I could choose from anything? I felt overwhelmed as it was without having the entirety of food in the world available to me.

"How about I just have whatever the Emperor had."

Q'orianka left me after she nodded, but was back before I could blink. "Would you like to bathe in your room or in the royal bath house?"

The royal bathhouse? As in, the one I would use as empress...and would most likely share with Kuzco? Nope, not yet. I hadn't even seen his face yet since I've been here. There was no way I was going to have my first run in with him in the baths and see his….

"In here is fine," I said quickly, running my words together.

The chasqui left my room briefly again and returned, this time followed by a line of blue and white servants, two who carried a large bronze tub, one who had an ornate wooden changing screen over his shoulder, and the rest each bore a bucket of hot water.

The tub was filled and before I knew it, I was left alone in my room.

Silence again. Silence as I disrobed from my travel cloths. Silence as I placed my neatly folded, _plushy_ towels on the footstool next to the tub. Silence as I slid into the hot water. Silence when I dunked my head to rinse my hair. A silence that was only broken when I blew a sigh passed my lips.

'I don't see him until tomorrow?'

Silence as I ate my dinner, some sort of salad. I couldn't even hear the storm the had surely rolled in outside.

I was too preoccupied with my thoughts. So much so that when my room was dark and it was time to sleep, all I could do was allow my mind to race.

I tossed and turned, despite the comfortable mattress and luxurious sheets. I finally laid on my back, closing my eyes and even going so far as to rest my bent arm over the tops of my eyelids, forcing myself to keep them closed.

'I'm just nervous,' I thought. 'I will fall asleep soon.' Then aloud: "Nothing to worry about."

"Unless," a voice from my mind answered, "he doesn't _want_ to see you." The voice of worry would sometimes catch up to me, especially as I attempted asleep, but since when was it so high and squeaky? I must really be stressed.

"No," I grumbled, arguing quietly with the voice. "Of course he wants to see me. He chose me."

It replied quickly, "If he wanted to see you he would see you. After all, you _did_ just travel hundreds of miles and moved your entire life here."

I bit my lip, "That's true, but he's an Emperor. I'm sure he's exhausted after a day of ruling." The voice scoffed.

"Something he was born and raised to do. Seems like he would have no problem balancing his responsibilities and his relationship with his new bride," it countered, then purred, "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

I felt my eyebrows draw together. "What?"

"How you will be treated as a wife if he can't even be _bothered_ to see you when you arrive." I was silent, fretting over the thought.

"Or maybe," the voice continued, sounding louder and louder by the word until the sound reverberated in my skull. "He's changed his mind completely. He sent you back once already. This is probably just a game to him. This marriage is nothing to him. _You_ are nothing to him."

As the voice went on, I felt myself squeezing my eyes ever tighter, pressing my hands over my ears, but I couldn't stop my breath from heaving. My lungs felt tight, my chest heavy. Like there was a weight on my chest.

Wait a minute.

I opened my eyes and listened. There was no more voice, but the heaviness still sat on the middle of my chest. I extended my hand to the bedside table where the oil lamp sat and turned the flame up.

Oh.

On my sternum sat a tiny grey kitten. Well, I wasn't sure if grey was really the right word; it almost looked purple.

I laughed at myself. "Trust me to allow my imagination to run wild," I muttered as I lifted my hand to stroke the kitten who was looking at me with large eyes and pink nose mere inches from my face.

"Hey there," I cooed. "Where did you come from?" Almost on cue with my question, it let out the most precious little meow.

"Aw. You're sweet," I declared as I pet the silky fur and listened to the rattling purring. "You can stay with me. I definitely need some company tonight."

Again I marveled at the time of the kitten's response as it jumped to the mattress from my chest and curled up alongside my legs.

'Great,' I thought to myself, smiling for the first time since my arrival. 'At least I'm not alone.'


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Emperor's New Groove or any lyrics by Caro Emerald.**

00000000000

Kuzco primped a little harder than usual this morning. There was no way he wasn't going to appear in front of Killa looking like his normal self. He had to look better, sharper, handsome...er. This was the day—the day before the wedding—he was really going to be _seen_ by Killa, he hoped. He had held off much of the wedding preparations to try to include her and whatever she deemed necessary for their big day.

He only hoped Chicha was right. His instincts were telling him that this woman wanted to be taken care of, but he had _always_ listened to his instincts, most of which were about him. Would following them now be him following what _he_ wants or what he thinks she wants? Either way, Kuzco thought he may be too biased to tell, so Chicha it is.

But where to meet her?

He thought about taking her to the same place he first met her, hoping to symbolically show "I chose you", but then thought better of it. He knew that place probably had too much bad history even for the few brief moments of interaction that took place there.

So, that was out.

The throne room was an option, but to meet her there felt cold, removed, as if he was meeting one of his subjects.

He wrestled with his thoughts a moment longer before swiftly making a decision.

"Why not?" he muttered to himself as he led himself to the magenta wood in the row of vibrant doors that separated Killa's temporary room from the hallway. Not wasting anymore time, he knocked.

A rapping at the dense wood had Killa stirring from sleep, first in a dreamy sort of way, where her mind hadn't quite connected with reality. The next moment brought a few more patient knocks, and Killa let out a forced puff of air as a furry body used her stomach as a vault to spring off the bed. She bolted upright, throwing a glance at the door and throwing her legs over the bed to fluidly crouch to the floor and look under the bed.

Underneath the bed was pitch black, and she couldn't even see the glow of the cat's eyes as she expected.  
"Here kitty, kitty," she called softly.

A muffled voice at the door then asked, "Killa? Can I come in?"

 _Oh crap!_ That was an unmistakeable voice. "Ummm!" Killa called out, looking about herself for something more presentable than the soft as butter tunic she had worn for bed. "Just a second!"

Kuzco clasped his hands behind his back patiently instead of inspecting his nails as once had been his vain habit while waiting.

He was eager to see her again.

Killa saw a red tunic folded for her on the dresser where the towels had been placed the night before, and she blanched. It was red, which was a color usually reserved for those with the highest status, i.e. royalty...the emperor...and his family. She reached out to the vibrant cloth and absently ran her fingers over it seeing the color contrasted against her own dark skin. With one last cursory thought to how she wasn't the Empress _yet_ , Killa's finger closed over the hem and pulled it over her head.

Killa's brush smoothed over her heavy locks, taming what had been kinked during sleep. She tossed it over to the bed with one arm while the other threw the door open wide with impressive fluidity.

The breeze that the door's opening created made the pair feel as if their breaths had been sucked out of their own throats. Kuzco couldn't help the glance over he gave her. He _liked_ her in red. She more embodied the fire flower her name suggested.

Killa attempted to cover her embarrassment with a fast, "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to sleep so late."

Kuzco, still standing in the doorway, waved his hand and insisted, "Not a problem. I'm sorry to wake you after you traveled so far, but we've got a lot to prepare today." He punctuated his sentence with an easygoing smile. No need to make her feel like she was in _trouble_. Really all he wanted was to see her and get an idea of what she wanted out of this big day.

Killa gasped in what seemed to be a pleased sound, "Oh!" Her smile was wide and her eyes were bright, and she seemed actually happy to be there—not quite as business-like as she had been at the shipyard. She stepped out of the room (close to him, he took a step back in attempt to be respectful) and shut the door behind her.

"Whaddawe have to do?" Killa asked, slipping into a more casual speech pattern, which pleased Kuzco more than he liked to admit to himself. _Good, I guess she's gotten a little more comfortable if she's talking like that_.

"Well," the Emperor began, offering a bent elbow to his lady, who took it gently with a small flush to her face. "I want to make sure you like your wedding, so we actually have to decide on some décor, some food, et cetera."

Surprise shaped the square face swaying gently with their gait. "You want _me_ to choose?"

"Well, yeah. This is your day-"

"Our day," she quickly corrected while distracted by the tall archway that lead them into a long rectangular hall where one side opened to a veranda.

Tables were lined up against the opposite wall, covered with white table clothes, bare with no platters of glasses to speak of. Those would be placed the next day.

"Yeah," Kuzco agreed, entertained by her apparent desire to please him by inclusion, when really all that pleased him now was to be near to her and watch her facial expressions change with each new detail of her knew home she took in. "So, we'll choose together. First one, I think, will be an easy one."

Kuzco led Killa to a pair of ladders, each with a blue and white clad servant perched at the top holding delicate white cloth.

"Now tell me," he prompted, sweeping a hand upward to indicate her gaze to follow. "Draped or hanging?"

The servants at the top arranged the cloth in their respective styles thusly.

Now, Killa didn't consider herself a picky woman. She knew what she liked, however, and she liked one in particular and announced her preference.

"Draping." Killa then looked to Kuzco for approval, and he smiled back at her, agreeing with finality, "Draping."

He titled his head backward to look up to his servants, "Thanks, fellas. That'll be all for now."

Kuzco lead her away from the reception hall, tempted to place light pressure to her lower back to guide her ahead of himself, but thought better of it. Their touches had been limited, and such a gesture seemed intimate already.

He was reminded of his duties of a husband that grew closer with each moment, knowing he would serve her physically as he should, should she let him. Maybe he should normalize some more touching.

"That's all?" Killa asked as her doe-like eyes found his.

Kuzco tried his best not to look sheepish and succeeded. "For that room." He gave her a smile. "There isn't a lot of time, and I made the assumption that the placement of the tables wouldn't be the first thing on your mind."

It was a joke, not necessarily at her expense, but made with a tone of familiarity, as if he already knew her. However, Killa admitted to herself that he was right and told him so with a false air of snobbery. "A risk well made, my Emperor." A surprised chuckle left him, and Killa felt pleased. She enjoyed being playful with him. It was a surprise in his personality that was most welcome and was a dynamic that she could easily fall into.

'Dangerous territory,' she chided in her mind.

They made their way through the hall into the kitchen, where a man in a chef's hat placed the finishing touches on what looked to be an hor d'oevres plate while another, rather large, barrel-chested man in oven mits pulled small, steaming pastries from the oven. There was a long solid table lined with samples of different foods, from traditional to some that she had never even seen before, and it all smelled divine.

Her stomach announced its intentions to eat. She turned a light shade of pink before apologizing.

"No need," Kuzco said waving off her apology, before presenting a plate to her with what looked like wide, balanced spoons. The basin part of the spoon was deeper than she had ever seen, was filled with a sort of rice, topped with fish and two different kinds of sauces.

As she plucked one of the laden utensils from the tray, she let her eyes roam the table.

"There's so many," she commented.

"I wanted to make sure you had options," Kuzco replied. He then nodded to the spoon still in her grasp. "Try it. I think you'll enjoy that one."

Killa eyed it for a moment, trying to decide how to tackle the small mound of food as it had been artfully arranged in a tall pile. In the end, she took the whole utensil in her mouth and used her top lip to smooth off as much of the food as possible. She hummed in approval as her senses were immediately overtaken by the buttery texture of the fish, the spicy and sweet of the two sauces, and the sticky rice.

"Wow," she breathed, placing her fingers in front of her mouth to hide the large bite as she attempted to roll it into a better position for chewing. As Killa chewed, the flavors combined and danced together, mingling in one perfect, albeit large, bite.

"Good?" Kuzco prompted.

Killa finally swallowed, "Yeah, _really_ good." Kuzco raised the plate to her again.

"Take another," he offered.

Killa needed no further instruction; it was amazing, and she was famished. This time while she openly reveled in the snack, he turned and produced another tray, these with the freshly baked pastries the large man had given to him.

"Spinach puffs," he supplied in way of explanation to their green center and surrounding golden crust.

Killa held out her palm in a motion of "hold on" while she finished the bite of whatever she had eaten.

"Careful," the other man called from the other side of the kitchen, where he was depositing his blue mitts into their respective drawer. "They're still hot."

Killa reached out and delicately picked one up with her nails, blowing on it gently. Once she felt like she had heeded the warning enough, she popped the bite sized puff in her mouth and let loose a very satisfied moan. She hadn't known something with spinach to be so delectable before. The unexpected surprised came in the form of at least two different kinds of cheeses, mild but complimented by the bite of garlic and the sweetness of the pastry dough.

"These are so amazing!" she exclaimed, grabbing another oblivious to Kuzco's satisfied smile and Kronk's flush.

"They're Kronk's specialty," Kuzco announced, and without boast, the large man looked proud of himself and grateful for the Emperor's praise all at the same time.

"Aw, I've been making them forever. They're so easy." His attempts at humility were interrupted by two gutteral syllables from Killa.

"Uhn-uh." Kuzco noticed another had found it's way into her mouth; was that her third? "Simple or not, these are way too good not to take more credit for."

Kronk looked slightly uncomfortable, not knowing if his amiable relationship with Kuzco extended to the soon-to-be-empress, but she smiled at him genially and the concerns quickly went to the back of his mind.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

Kuzco snatched the tray away as she went for another bite.

"Hey!" she protested.

Oh my gosh. She was pouting, and Kuzco felt like his knees could give and he could take her in his arms all at the same time. She was adorable.

"Ah-ah!" he chastised, easily hiding his reaction to her jutting lower lip. "You can't fill up on the puffs. If you have room after tasting the rest of the potential food for our wedding, eat as many as you want."

"I intend to," Killa informed him smartly.

oooooooooooooooo

 **"I'm in a little bit of trouble**  
 **And I'm in real deep**  
 **From the beginning to the end**  
 **He was no more than a friend to me"**


End file.
